Another box cleared and still not a hint of any impropriety with any of Jackson Vaughn’s companies. I rubbed my weary eyes and sat back in the swivel chair. I had been reviewing the files for hours non-stop today; in fact I had thrown myself into my work for the past four weeks now. Working long hours with little to no breaks on this case was finally catching up to me. I knew what I had been avoiding. Prior to the disastrous scene with Derek, Vaughn’s playboy son, in the cabana, I had set up the perfect routine. I had been working hard, but enjoying the luxurious amenities at one of Vaughn’s private residences, as Jackson had so generously offered. Now, every morning I went straight to my temporary office at the estate and crept out late every night. I didn’t walk the grounds, make chit-chat with the staff, or use the pool as I had in the past. All because of that arrogant bastard, Derek. One day after my usual swim, I had showered in the cabana only to find my clothes and towel gone missing.
